


Dare Dare Dare Truth

by endemictoearth



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Staring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 16:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5973570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endemictoearth/pseuds/endemictoearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a Tumblr prompt: "Ugh, I can imagine Chop and Archie catch Finn looking at Rae several times during a week but he denies it every time, so they dare him the next time he stares he’s gonna have to do what they say. So that’s how Finn ends up playing Aqua songs on the jukebox, wearing a fake mustache for a day, and kissing a random dog on the street."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dare Dare Dare Truth

**Author's Note:**

> The lovely @ch1darkcy "accidentally" dropped the above prompt on the fandom the other day, and my wheels started turning. I would have used Barbie Girl, but it didn't come out until '97, so I ended up taking a few liberties with the dares.
> 
> So, I wanted this to be funnier. There are some jokes, but when writing from Finn’s perspective it’s hard not to be serious about his feelings. Boy can’t joke around when it comes to Rae, y’know? I feel like I keep writing circles around them getting together, but there’s enough different and new here that I don’t feel too weird about putting it out there. (Though I want to write more about them BEING together, I swear!) 
> 
> As ever, I hope you all enjoy this!

“You’re doing it again,” Archie muttered half out of the corner of his mouth and half into his pint, trying to keep his voice low.

Finn audibly gulped his mouthful of lager as he dropped his gaze, boring two holes into the table. “No ‘m not,” he mumbled.

“Suuuuure you’re not,” Archie gave Finn a sardonic grin which Finn couldn’t fully appreciate because he caught some movement in the corner of his eye, a tall dark shape moving, and his eyes were drawn to it. Rae, walking over to the jukebox. His eyes followed her, and he knew Archie was going to call him on it again, but he couldn’t help it. “And you have _noooo_ idea what I’m talking about, either,” Archie chuckled.

Finn ignored his friend, eyes trained on Rae as she moved. She walked with a bit of a stoop to her shoulders, probably because she was self-conscious about being tall. But her walk wasn’t unsure, she almost glided across the pub. He’d seen her walk away angry before, so he knew she could pound her feet and stomp with the best of them, but when she thought no one was particularly paying attention to her, she was damn near graceful. He didn’t want to think about what it meant that he’d looked at her often enough to get all that from ten steps to the jukebox.

“Annnnd, there you go again,” Archie said, a little louder, since Rae wasn’t at the table anymore.

“Ol’ Finny Boy’s got it baaaad,” Chop agreed.

“Shut up, I do not,” Finn hissed, taking a swig of his pint.

“Y’should just ask her out; tell her how y’feel,” Chop declared, his own gaze drifting over to Izzy, who was giggling with Chloe over at the food hatch as they waited for their orders of chips.

“First of all, I don’t even… and I’m definitely not … doing that.” His eyes flitted automatically to the machine across the pub, and to Rae’s profile as she leaned forward to read the song titles in tiny print, her dark hair falling forward. He blinked hard and concentrated on his drink again.

“Okay, mate. If you don’t fancy her, then quit lookin’ at her.”

Finn’s eyebrows crinkled in confused distress at the thought. “What, like, never? I look at you two; I look at most people.” He jutted out his chin defensively and muttered, “Can’t just never look at someone sat at the same table.”

“Well, ya don’t look at us the same way ya look at Raemundo, that’s for sure. It’s more of a stare, isn’t it, Arch?”

Archie nodded and adjusted his glasses. “Oh, definitely a stare. Piercing, is the word I’d use.”

Finn shrugged, tired of lying. He’d just quit responding to their goading.

Chop took a drink of his beer and set it down purposefully. “Okay, I’ve got it.”

Archie leaned forward, anticipating something good. Finn leaned back against the wooden bench, dreading whatever his mate had just cooked up.

“Finn’s got a bit of a starin’ problem, yeah? So, we’ll help him out with it.” He rocked back in his chair, grin widening. “Next time we catch you gawpin’ at Rae, we’ll give you two options: Truth, or dare.”

Finn sat up in alarm at this, eyes growing large with fear. “Wha—?”

Chop glanced round the pub before cutting off his friend. “You won’t have to say anythin’. Jus’, if we give you the elbow, or a look, lettin’ ya know we’ve caught ya … You’ve got ten seconds to either ask Rae out, or we’ll give you a little task to perform.”

Finn shook his head, “What? That’s—you can’t—“

Chop shook his head right back. “Thing is, we actually CAN. Because if you don’t tell her … and ya don’t do the dare, well …” Chop shrugged his shoulders up to meet his ears. “No tellin’ what’ll happen, really.”

“You fuckin’ bastard,” Finn growled.

Archie sharply inhaled. “That’s a little harsh, Chop, but … if it weren’t true, he won’t have anythin’ to worry about, will he?”

Now both of Finn’s so-called friends raised their eyebrows as if to say, “Well, are we wrong?”

Rae came back to the table and sat across from Finn, just as the intro to Baba O’Riley began to jangle in the background. Out of instinct, he sought out her face, which looked pleased with her own choice. She caught his gaze with her own, and she had a look that seemed to be asking him to say something. Then Archie cleared his throat in warning, and Finn dropped his head, squeezing his eyelids shut, praying they wouldn’t start their dare here and now.

“I … that’s a choice tune, Rae, but I … I forgot I’ve gotta get home. See yas all later, yeah?” He hopped up from the table, just as Izzy and Chloe came back bearing fresh hot chips. The two girls gave him incredulous looks as he shrugged his jacket on.

“You sure you can’t stay an’ help with these?” Chloe asked.

“Nah, sorry. Laters.” He glanced over his shoulder when he reached the pub door and saw Rae looking at him with a curious face. He didn’t let his eyes linger. He couldn’t.

* * * * *

On his way home, he cursed himself, and he cursed Chop and Archie more. Why did they care if he looked at Rae? She just happened to catch his attention a lot. Well, more than a lot. All the time, if he was honest with himself.

And he didn’t know why the idea of asking her out was so scary. He’d asked plenty of girls on dates, or to go behind the bike shed for a bit of a snog, but it … it never _mattered_ before.

Later, when Archie called and asked him many of the questions he’d been asking himself ever since he left the pub, he found himself responding, “If any girl was gonna NOT like me, it’d be Rae.”

“Listen, Finn. Maybe she wasn’t sure about ya at first. And, I mean, to be fair, you didn’t seem convinced of her at first, either … but she seems to like you now. You two are always chattin’ about music an’ stuff. We just thought … you two seem quite nice together.”

Finn chewed at his thumbnail, the silence of the phone line buzzing in his ear.

“Finn?”

“Look, I … I just can’t. I’ll try not to stare at her, okay? Will you promise not to …” He wasn’t sure what he hoped for, but then he remembered.

“You know I would, Finn. But—“

“Chop.” Finn sighed.

* * * * *

Finn tried to stay away, but after one day at home cooling his heels, he received a knock at the door and an escort to the pub from his good friend Arnold Peters.

As they made their way to the table, Chop tightened his arm around Finn’s shoulder to keep him from bolting, and announced, “Look who I found!” He shoved Finn toward the side of the table opposite Rae.

Finn grimaced, hoping it was close enough to a smile to be taken for a greeting.

“Where’ve ya been, Finn?” Izzy asked, chewing on the straw in her alcopop, eyes wide.

“I jus’, had some things needed doin’ at home, is all. Me dad’s been … askin’ me to pitch in a bit more.” He ducked his head and bit his lip. A moment of silence ‘round the table prompted him to pull out his tin of tobacco.

The conversation around him started back up and Finn concentrated on making the perfect rollie. If he could have placed each grain of tobacco in separately, he would have. Just as he lifted the paper to his mouth to run his tongue along the seam, Rae murmured, “Glad ya could make it, Finn. It was … weird without ya here.”

His breath caught and one of those bits of loose tobacco got stuck in his windpipe. He coughed, scattering tobacco all over the table and into people’s pints.

“Oi!” Chop protested.

“Shit, are you okay?” Rae asked, placing her hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t help looking at her; her eyes full of concern.

Finn nodded, dropping his ruined rollie on the table, and coughing into the crook of his elbow. He felt like a total idiot. He should have slammed the door on Chop’s foot and then shouted at him to fuck off through the letterbox.

“I’ll get ya a drink, yeah?” Rae asked, leaving her hand on Finn’s shoulder, ever so lightly pressing her fingers into him as she stood up to go to the bar. He tried to protest, but he was still coughing. When she took her hand away, he could still feel her touch radiating on the axis of his arm and his shoulder. He coughed a final time, and looked up to watch Rae trying to catch the barman’s eye to place her order.

She looked … ugh. She always looked so effortlessly cool. Not like she didn’t care at all, but like, she didn’t care about looking like everyone else. She’d taken off her leather jacket at the table, so he could see a bit more of her curves. Her breasts distorted the graphic on her t-shirt in a most pleasing and distracting way. And her skirt was so short, he spent a few seconds imagining what she’d look like without the leggings on underneath. Suddenly, he realized. _Oh, shit._

Rae was headed back to the table, and he sought out Chop’s face. From the expression he found there, he knew he’d been rumbled. Archie slid a 20p across on a bar napkin with the word “OVER” scrawled on it in block capitals.

Rae sat two pint glasses in front of him; one filled with lager, the other with water. His heart flipped at her kindness and he took a quick sip of the water. “Thanks,” he muttered as he stood up to make his way to the jukebox. He turned the napkin over when he reached the machine.

“PLAY SOMETHING DREADFUL OR WE SPILL THE BEANS.”

Finn slumped forward at the threat and hung his head. Sometimes he felt like the only thing Rae liked about him was that he had decent taste in music. Could he risk that by playing “something dreadful”?

He glanced over his shoulder at the table to find Archie and Chop raising their eyebrows over their pints, daring him to come back to the table and face the music there, or to nut up and ask her out. His gaze shifted to Rae, who was laughing about something with Izzy, eyes sparkling, and he just couldn’t find the nerve. He shrugged defensively, and turned back to the jukebox, flipping through the offerings with a pit of dread in his stomach.

It had to be worse even than Babylon Zoo. Flipping through the albums, some gold letters and Ken dolls caught his eye. He scoffed. Well, if he was looking for shite, you couldn’t do better than Take That. The only song he recognized on the track list was Back For Good, so he started to punch in the numbers, but his hand was slick with sweat and his forefinger slipped and punched the 8 instead of the 7 and he played the next track, [Every Guy](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DWW3S5x8pDY8&t=NWZjN2E3ZDhlMmY4Nzc3MmZhODFhZTY0MzMxNjA2N2U2MGYyNWM1YyxOZDF0RGE1Mg%3D%3D). He didn’t know the song, but he figured all their stuff was equally bollocks, so he shrugged and started back to the booth.

As the song started up, Rae’s head whipped around to see who had played this piece of excrement. Finn felt like a piece of excrement for playing it, but kept his head down. Izzy cooed, “Oh, Take That!” while Chop and Archie shook their heads into their pints.

Rae lightly hit the outside of his bicep. “Finn, what the fuck? Didja suffer a head injury between here and the jukebox?”

He wiped his palm on his jeans and said, “Yeah, sorry, my fingers slipped.”

Archie cleared his throat loudly and Chop pursed his lips pointedly. Finn sighed. “I meant to play Back for Good.”

“You what???” Rae practically shouted. “First Spaceman, now this? You’re slippin’, my friend.” She took a big swig of her snakebite and in the silence, Finn heard some lyrics, wincing at:

> _OK so I’ve stared a little long_
> 
> _You can take my body, take my fingers and my tongue_
> 
> _Oh you move like you know what’s coming next_
> 
> _Touching me, touching you, touching all around your legs_
> 
> _I need you, I need you, I need you you you you you_
> 
> _Get the message now, I’ve got to have you girl_

His eyes widened involuntarily. He prayed she wasn’t listening; that she was ignoring the vile shit spewing out of the speakers so much that she didn’t think about the words. His leg started shaking, and he shot a desperate glance to his so-called mates, who were choking back laughter.

Rae shook her head, “At least it isn’t the fuckin’ Backstreet Boys, but Jesus, Finn. Take That?” She didn’t seem to be paying attention to the lyrics, and Finn silently thanked fuck for that.

He wanted to force out a laugh and say it was a joke, but Chop and Archie would undoubtedly jump in to insist that it wasn’t, because it was an unspoken part of the dare. So he just glowered at them and then frowned into his beer.

When they all parted for the evening, Rae reached out to tap him lightly on the shoulder with her fist. “Hey, Finn! Maybe lay off the booze for a day or two. I think it’s cloudin’ your musical judgment!” She flashed him a grin and turned to walk home, her hair flipping around her shoulders and flashing in the light from the setting sun.

He laughed weakly and turned to trudge home.

* * * * *

At the park the next day, Archie and Chop were ready with Archie’s grandad’s cloth cap. Finn spied some tweed in his best mate’s back pocket, but didn’t think anything of it. Rae kept needling him about Take That, and it was her knocking her shoulder into his that made his gaze linger past propriety. Archie and Chop whipped out the flat cap and Archie said, “Oh, I nearly forgot! I found your favorite hat, Finn! Ya left it at ours. I know you’ve been missin’ it!” His mate shoved the cap onto his head, tugging the brim down snug across his forehead. He had to walk around all afternoon looking like a knob. “Oi, where’s your whippet?” Barney chided, as everyone with them at the park laughed.

He must’ve thought that the hat hid his gaze, or just hoped that Chop and Arch wouldn’t exact two dares on him in one one afternoon, but in either case he was wrong. Rae sat up to take a long drink of water from the bottle she carried with her, and Finn got lost following the line of her throat, the gentle curve of her jaw.

Before he knew what was happening, Chop had brought over a terrier mix some couple had been walking along the path near where they were gathered. “It’s not a whippet, but you needed a dog to cuddle, wearin’ that hat.” Finn narrowed his eyes, his teeth grinding together to hold his tongue. “Go’onnnn, give ‘im a little kiss. I don’t even have to spin a bottle and look what you get.” Chop held the docile pup up to Finn’s face. Finn glared at his gap-toothed friend and quickly turned his head to peck the dog on it’s furry cheek. The dog turned to lick Finn on the lips and he winced.

“Awww, it likes you!” The gang giggled as Chop took the dog back to its owners.

When he returned, Finn muttered, “What’d ya do, tell ‘em I was terminal?”

“Nah, jus’ said you was a real dog lover, an’ that your folks never let you get one.”

“What a sob story,” Finn grumbled.

“The only sob story is that you still won’t jus’ tell that lass that you’re gone on her.” Chop shook his head, then leaned over a bit to lower his voice. “Take it from someone who knows; it’s not gonna jus’ go away. It’s not like the ‘flu or summat.”

Finn merely shrugged. Chop threw up his hands and looked over at Archie. “I tried,” he said. Archie came over and grabbed the cap off Finn’s head. “Oh, sorry, mate, this isn’t yours, after all.”

* * * * *

At Rutland Waters the next week, Finn was pleased because Rae finally dropped the song issue. That incident seemed to have been forgotten, and he studiously avoided looking at her for more than a second or two at a time. He became intensely interested in the architecture of the viaduct, the cumulus clouds overhead, and the variety of shrubbery around them.

An hour later, Rae was lying next to him in the grass, a respectable distance away, and Finn actually liked that, because he had the luxury of sensing her without staring at her. He felt her shift and saw her sit up next to him. She glanced around, sighing “Fuck me, it’s hot.” Finn stiffened at her words. All parts of him, not just his little friend. She peeled off her flannel and he saw that she only had a band tee on underneath. Normally she had long sleeves under her tee and a flannel, topped with her leather jacket. He was surprised she wasn’t constantly on a low boil.

He couldn’t help it. His eyes wandered from her face to her neck to her chest, to the pale skin on the inside of her elbow, which looked impossibly soft and touchable, a spot he’d never seen before. His mind then started the doing the tantalizing math of how many square inches of skin there might be of her to explore, and parts of him stiffened a little bit more.

At this point, he knew he was staring, all he could hope was that Archie and Chop hadn’t noticed. He tore his gaze away, and saw he was out of luck. His two friends smirked at him and Archie cleared his throat. “Yeah, it is quite hot. In fact, Finn, you look positively overheated.”

Finn shot a wary look between his traitorous pals and Rae. Something was coming, but he didn’t know how bad it would be. “Yeah, it’s a bit … warm …” he said, cautious.

“I DARESAY you should take your shirt off, too.” Archie said, with careful emphasis.

Finn sighed and untied his flannel from his waist.

“Now that won’t cool you down much, mate, will it?” Archie gestured to Finn’s henley, which made Finn huff a testy sigh.

“S’pose you’re right, MATE,” he spat as he yanked his top over his head.

Every girl there, including Rae, stopped to stare at him for a long moment. He tried to cross his arms over his bare chest, but it felt awkward, like he had one too many elbows, so he stood up and walked over to look at the reservoir.  

It felt good to stare at the ripples that travelled across the surface of the water. He wasn’t going to have to do a dare looking at this. He sensed someone walking up behind him just a second before Rae appeared at his side, and he winced a little. Before this stupid THING looming over him, he had loved spending time with her, being near her. He couldn’t even explain why he didn’t just say something to her, ask her over to his, but every time he thought he’d got the bottle up, something would stop him.

“Y’alright?” she asked, a mote of sincere worry in her voice.

“Yeah, jus’ … hot, I guess. Y’know, overheated, or … anyway.” He scuffed the toe of his boot against the grass, clearing his throat.

“Oh, well, if that’s the case …” She glanced over her shoulder, and Finn followed her eye line to see Chop give her a thumb’s up. She turned back and smiled at him as she pushed him into the reservoir. He grabbed her hand out of instinct and pulled her in after him. They ended up in a soggy heap in the shallow bit near the grassy bank.

Finn sputtered, slicking his fringe out of his eyes. “What the fuck was that?” he yelped.

Rae pulled herself up to sit in the grass, the right side of her jeans covered in mud. “I s’pose I deserved that,” she muttered, wiping her muddy hand in the grass. “Sorry, Chop and Archie bet me I wouldn’t push ya in, an’ they were just so smug about it, I couldn’t let them … anyway.” She didn’t meet his gaze; she plucked at her soaked top, trying to pull it away from her, but it kept sticking to her skin.

Finn couldn’t help stare at her breasts—the swell of them, the way they curved into her stomach. His mouth went a little dry, despite being soaked to the skin, and he licked his lower lip before pulling it into his mouth with his teeth. He blinked hard and looked down at his hands.

“I’m really sorry, Finn,” Rae sobbed, as she scrambled to stand up. She rushed back toward the gang, still pulling at her top, wildly looking around for her flannel. Finn followed after her, grabbing his henley from the spot where he’d left it. He pulled his shirt on, and watched Rae struggle into her plaid button down.

“Y’alright, Rae?” Izzy asked. “Finn, what’ve ya done?”

“Nothin’, she—she—we slipped. I slipped, and grabbed her hand as I started to fall.”

Rae’s eyes flew up to meet his, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

He made up his mind, once and for all. He grabbed Rae’s hand, picked up his flannel and her bag, then pulled her along to where the cars were parked. “C’mon, we’ll go back an’ get cleaned up. The drive’ll dry us off, yeah?” He produced his extra helmet from under his seat, and held it out to her. Rae looked from him to the helmet and back again, and he extended his arm further. “Go on, take it. Please,” he added. She did, and ran her fingers through her hair before fitting it over her head. Threading her arms through the loops of her backpack, she squared her shoulders.

Finn figured he had the ride to decide what he’d say when they stopped.

* * * * *

He was distracted by the feel of her pressed against him. Lightly, she wasn’t leaning forward, but there’s no way they could help touching. Her hands clutched at his sides, and his brain was trying simultaneously to concentrate on the road, concentrate on her touch, and work out how to tell her.

He felt certain she’d laugh at him. Part of him wanted to circumnavigate the town a few times before going back to his, but mainly, he just wanted to get this over with. This was partly to get his mates off his back, partly to unburden himself, and a bit to just finally know.

He pulled up outside his house and waited for Rae to get off the bike. She didn’t. Her hands fell to her sides, and she leant back, but stayed put.

“We can get cleaned up here, if ya want. We’ve got two bathrooms, an’ … anyway.” He felt Rae slide to her right and lift her left leg over and swing off the back of the bike.

He took a breath and kicked the stand out before following suit. He walked up to his front door and tried it. Locked. His dad must be out. He pulled the keys out of his damp pocket and opened the door. It swung in and he turned around to gesture for Rae to go in ahead of him.

She took a step, paused. She was right there in front of him. He was so scared she’d turn around and stomp home, too angry for grace. Instead, she just glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and stepped over the threshold into his home. She kept to one side of the hall, and he rushed in after her, realizing she’d never been here before, didn’t know where anything was.

“Sorry, just …” he pushed the door closed behind him and started up the stairs, turning halfway to see if she was following. She had just put her hand on the bannister and her foot on the first step. He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way, and kept going.

He heard the creak of the stairs behind him and his smile widened.

Ducking into his room, he suddenly realized this was a terrible idea. He just wanted to tell her he liked her. Well, ideally, she’d just know and they’d look at each other and almost telepathically share their thoughts and they’d kiss and then … and then …

See, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. Of course, he was a guy. His body told him what he’d like to do … eventually. But he didn’t want to skip ahead to that. What, he’d say, “I really like you a lot, Rae,” and she’d say, “Oh, Finn!” and leap on him? He cleared his throat and turned to the door, where Rae was standing just outside in the hall.

“Maybe I should just … I’m dried off now; I can just …” She looked sort of small, though she was just a few feet away from him. “I’m sorry.” Her head hung from her neck, as her fingers fidgeted against each other.

“What for?”

She looked up, confused. “For pushin’ ya in the water?”

Finn huffed a laugh. “Oh, that? No worries. It were … I understand. Those two and their hilarious dares.” He sighed, and sank onto the edge of his bed, tossing his henley into the corner on top of his hamper. Rae leaned forward, her hands on either side of the doorframe. She toed her Converse along line of carpet between the hall and his room.

“C’mon in,” he waved her to sit in the chair by the window.

“I don’t wanna get mud on your stuff,” she mumbled.

Finn laughed louder at this. “Don’t worry about it; we found that at me uncle’s house when we were clearin’ it out. It’s at least fifty years old and is usually covered in me sweaty football gear.”

Rae bit her bottom lip as it curled into a smile. “Well, I can’t refuse that offer, can I?”

She sank gingerly into the old armchair. The late afternoon sun slanted in, illuminating her hair, showing shades of red and picking out individual hairs outlined in gold.

“What?” she whispered.

“Hmmm?” He shook his head and saw her eyes full of worry.

“Is there somethin’ wrong? Do I have somethin’ on my face?” She ran her fingertips along her cheek, feeling for dried mud or flecks of grass.

“No, no, nothin’s wrong.” He sighed. “Chop was right.”

Rae inclined her head in curiosity. “Hmm? ‘Bout what?”

Chewing on the inside corner of his mouth, Finn cleared his throat. “‘Bout my starin’ problem.” He looked up to meet Rae’s eyes.

“Oh, what, like, spacin’ out an’ that? I do that all the time. Get lost in me own thoughts.”

Finn pressed his lips together, allowing himself a moment to wonder what she wondered about, then parted them enough to expel a thin stream of air. “Not exactly,” he said.

He brought his thumbnail up to gnaw on nervously for a minute. “They … they said that if they caught me starin’ at ya … I’d have t’do a dare. Every time I didn’t say somethin’ …” He sighed. He was making a hash of this.

Rae sat up straighter in the chair. “When … what? Wait, what?”

Finn shifted his right leg up onto the bed, hooking his foot under his left knee, as he looked over at Rae. “Chop and Arch. They … they were tired of me jus’ … moonin’ over ya, as they like to say.”

Her face morphed from confusion to incredulity. “Are ya havin’ me on with this?”

“What? No! Rae … fuck.” He leaned forward and she leaned back, her arms crossing over her chest, defenses visibly rising against this unforeseen turn of events.

“Rae … they were right. I dunno when or how, but … I do. Stare. I can’t help it. Ya just …” He tried to plead at her with his eyes, but she tightened her arms around her and looked up and away, out the window.

“Sorry ya have to look at this, I guess?” She tipped her eyes up to look at the ceiling; Finn could see the tears forming.

“What?? No, Rae, ya don’t … I can’t help it, but I really don’t want ta help it.” He sighed. “I’m so shit with words; I can never … I like you, Rae. I really, really like ya.”

She blinked rapidly, not looking at him. “Yeah, sure. Like me? Uh-huh, right.” She uncrossed her arms to push herself out of the chair. “I’ve—I should go. Sorry for the … I’ll go.”

Finn leapt up. “No, Rae. Please, I’m … shit, why I am I so bad with—I can never say what I wanna say. Fuck!” He’d come close to her, but now turned around to pace to the middle of the room. He didn’t want to scare her; to beg her to stay and understand him. But he so desperately wanted her to believe him.

She stood there, next to his chair, drawing herself in on herself, he could almost see her turning inside out, and realized he wanted to see everything inside her, too. He stared at her, eyes full. “I keep lookin’ at ya, because I _like_ lookin’ at ya. I like _you_.” She plucked at her sleeves, and jutted out her chin, a silent “So?” hanging in a bubble over her head.

“They said … they said I should just tell you, ask you out. When they caught me starin’, that’s why … the … Take That, and …”

“And the hat, and the dog …” She started to figure it out.

“Yeah …” he exhaled.

The room went silent around them, realization dawning in Rae’s features. She still looked hurt, but she wasn’t angry anymore.

“ _If_ you like me—“

“I do!” He didn’t mean to cut her off. “Sorry,” he apologized.

“Well, then … why didn’t ya? Just … ask me out?  You’d rather … play Take That and walk around shirtless than tell me? Would it have been that … terrible?”

Finn glanced down, feeling ashamed that she would think that. “No … well, yeah. I mean …it would’ve been if you said no.”

“Oh.” Rae seemed to hold her breath.

“And … well … you might still. I haven’t actually … y’know …”

“Asked me out?”

“Yeah.”

Rae swayed on her spot next to the chair, and rolled her eyes. Finn knew enough to know that she wasn’t making fun of him. She was just as nervous as he was. She hadn’t laughed at him; she hadn’t left.

“Rae?” His voice was thick and textured, like her name was knitted from wool and being pulled out of his throat.

“Yeah?” Her voice was high and wispy and evaporated before it reached the corners of the room.

“Will you go out wi’ me?” He was only about a foot away from her, and he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

She looked down at his carpet and up at his ceiling and over at his curtains, anywhere but at him, and all the while he just searched her face for clues, for what her answer might be, while she decided how to respond.

“Ummm, sure … I guess.” She shrugged her shoulders in exaggeration, expression of feigned indifference laid over her face, carefully disguising her … hope? He hoped it was hope.

He just kept looking and looking, waiting for her to smile, to say: “YES, you numpty! Of course, I’ll go out with you!” She actually had said it, with a smile, even. He hadn’t imagined it. He sighed a smile in return. That’s what he wanted, all he wanted. Something true.

“Okay, cool.”

* * * * *

She’d stayed.

He’d played her the Knebworth mix he’d made what felt like a year ago, but was only a couple of weeks.

She’d taken off her flannel and laid next to him on the floor to listen to his tune selection and had given him marks out of ten, starting with zero.

Their elbows had bumped against each other and they’d laughed.

He’d reached over to touch that spot on her inner elbow, running his fingertips along the crease there. It had been softer even than he’d imagined.

She had shivered and he had stared at her as she did.

He was still staring.


End file.
